She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. Bring your liveralong?" "I sometimes wonder if I have any—if it isn't the hole where it was that aches. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. ” “Not exactly,” he answered nervously. I take the life out of men.
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